There are figures who loom larger than life over pivotal events in American history. Myles Standish and the Mayflower crossing. George Washington and the Revolutionary War. Kit Carson and the Oregon Trail. Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad. Gen. Robert E. Lee and the Civil War. Traditionally, their stories and similarly heroic tales have punctuated countless chronicles of the military and political struggles that make up the bulk of recorded history.
But recent decades have witnessed a shift away from the long-held view that history belonged exclusively to extraordinary people in extraordinary times.
Historians of late have been asking: What of the ordinary people who have largely been the statistics of the past? How do their individual sagas lend illumination and perspective to the times in which they lived? What of the foot soldier who endured the winter at Valley Forge? The young mother forced to follow her husband 2,400 miles overland in a covered wagon? The Confederate bugle boy?
What of the most overlooked participant in her times, the voiceless young girl?
Happily, it is with this last segment of our nation’s bygone populace that a recent collection of historical fiction published by Scholastic Inc. concerns itself.
Dubbed the “Dear America” series, it consists of five books thus far. All take the form of diaries written by girls, ages 11 to 16, who are witnessing a critical moment in American history.
The first three–“A Journey to the New World: The Diary of Remember Patience Whipple,” by Kathryn Lasky; “The Winter of Red Snow: The Revolutionary War Diary of Abigail Jane Stewart,” by Kristiana Gregory; and “When Will This Cruel War Be Over?: The Civil War Diary of Emma Simpson,” by Barry Denenberg–were published in 1996. The other two–“Across the Wide and Lonesome Prairie: The Oregon Trail Diary of Hattie Campbell,” also by Gregory; and “A Picture of Freedom: The Diary of Clotee, a Slave Girl,” by Patricia C. McKissack–were published this year. Each costs $9.95.
Standish, Washington, Carson, Tubman and Lee appear within the pages of these riveting accounts. But they are mostly mentioned in passing as Mem, Abby, Emma, Hattie and Clotee record the fascinating details of their everyday lives.
Scholastic acknowledges a debt of inspiration to the popular “American Girl” books, first published in 1986 by Pleasant Co. Publications as a vehicle to sell its line of historically based dolls and accessories. The “American Girl” dolls and books are targeted to girls 6 to 10.
“We knew from the success of `American Girls’ that young girls were eager to read historical fiction,” said Tracy Mack, editor of the “Dear America” series. “But we wanted a much more literary series for the older girl.”
Though based on the same premise, the two series are worlds apart. The “American Girls” books are product-driven, candy-coated and formulaic. The “Dear America” diaries, written for middle-school readers, represent the best of historical fiction for any age.
Scholastic sought out authors with extensive experience writing historical non-fiction or fiction for 4th, 5th and 6th graders. They were given no firm guidelines, Mack said, other than to adhere to the diary format, and to cover no less than six months nor more than two years in a young girl’s life.
Historical accuracy was paramount, Mack said, so the books are imbued with a grim realism that even adult readers might find overwhelming. The hardships of the past are difficult enough to imagine from a modern perspective, but uncommon events conspire to make these girls’ circumstances even more wrenching.
Physical discomfort, cruelty, hunger, illness and death are, to a greater or lesser degree, fixtures of each book.
Abigail Stewart, all of 11 years old, worries–with good reason–that her newborn brother, Johnny, will not survive: “Mama has birthed nine children: three girls–that’s us–and now six boys. We have not had a brother live through his first winter.”
Meanwhile, Gen. Washington’s troops spend the brutal winter of 1777-78 camped in the fields surrounding Abby’s Valley Forge home. She and her family endure numerous thefts from pitiful soldiers foraging for whatever wood or food they can sneak away. They watch as deserters are beaten and hung.
Mayflower passenger Remember Whipple, a spunky little Separatist nicknamed Mem, constantly battles stench and seasickness on the Atlantic crossing. Conditions worsen once the ship has landed. Mem spends most of the winter and early spring fruitlessly nursing the sick and dying, including her mother.
An entry in Hattie Campbell’s Oregon Trail diary begins, “Something horrible has happened and I fear I’m to blame.” Thinking they were picking parsnips and carrots, Hattie and her friend Pepper accidentally added poisonous water hemlock to the wagon party’s evening stew. Three children died.
By the time the Civil War ends, Emma Simpson is the sole survivor of her immediate family, and their Virginia plantation is under Union occupation. But perhaps the saddest aspect of this good family’s story is its inability to recognize the evils of slavery. Paraphrasing her father, Emma writes, “He says the Abolitionists may rave as much as they like but the fact is that the negro race is inferior to the white race and must remain so.”
In striking contrast to Emma’s account, Clotee’s story of the life of a slave girl in Virginia may be the most remarkable in the series. This reviewer picked it up skeptically, initially unable to accept the premise that a 12-year-old slave could have kept a diary. But author McKissack crafts a believable and intriguing tale of a bright, tenacious girl who secretly learns to read while fanning the master’s son as he is taught his lessons. Unlike her series counterparts, who write openly in bound books received as gifts, Clotee has fashioned her diary out of scraps of paper fished out of the garbage. She well knows that it’s against the law for slaves to read and write. Because she fears she will be beaten and likely sold away to the Deep South if discovered, many of her entries are consumed not only with recounting her days, but with where she is hiding when she writes and what she will do if found out.
Despite their travails, these girls are not morose, nor are their stories necessarily dark. In fact, if there is a distinguishable pattern in the series it is that each girl is the product of loving, nurturing parents, even if they no longer are living. Each also shares a close friendship with at least one other girl, someone with whom to make mischief, giggle and tell secrets. And though filled with curiosity about love and marriage, each is sexually naive.
Though young readers may not be able to identify with the circumstances of the protagonists, they likely will find much in common with these girls’ senses of adventure and possibility, as well as their typical adolescent preoccupations and growing pains.
Emma, for example, wishes she were as effervescent as her cousin Rachel. Mem is consumed with envy that a boy she despises has discovered a body of water that will be named for him. Out of sight of their mothers, Hattie and Pepper go out walking without their bonnets on. “It feels cooler to let the wind blow my hair back and besides, I think boys like looking at us better without them,” she writes.
Indeed, what ultimately makes the “Dear America” series relevant and enjoyable for young readers is that (with the exception of Clotee) these diarists are Everygirl, not heroines rushing in to save the day.
Like most adolescents, they can be miserable one moment and buoyant the next. They are sometimes petty, vain and self-absorbed. They also can be strong, insightful and capable of rising to unparalleled challenges.
Perhaps even more than an Eleanor Roosevelt or a Florence Nightingale, these fictional diarists are ideal historical role models. Mem, Abby, Hattie, Clotee and Emma offer today’s readers both a rich historical perspective and a vital sense of how girls of the late 20th Century also can be important figures in their own time.
